


Six Thousand Years of Supposed Solitude

by XxmerthurcatxX



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Feelings Realization, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, but i'm already over 2000 words in so maybe a two or three shot lol, post armage-didn't, this was supposed to be a little onshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxmerthurcatxX/pseuds/XxmerthurcatxX
Summary: It's a bit overwhelming, realizing after six thousand years that you're in love with your best friend. Aziraphale doesn't handle it well...until he does.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 243





	1. Chapter One

Looking back on it now, Aziraphale felt like a complete and utter fool for not knowing. He’d figured out centuries ago that Crowley’s feelings for him were more substantial than just those of friendship. But he hadn’t realized until the world was about to end, that he returned those feelings, ten fold. 

Over the years he’d suspected that he might be falling in love with the demon. 

Back in 1941 when Crowley had rescued him from the church and, more important, rescued his books, there had been something. A feeling, swelling in his chest. Love, stronger than he had ever felt before. He’d assumed then that it was because the books he’d worked so hard to track down were safe and he was simply thankful to the demon for saving them. Or perhaps he was too scared to admit, even to himself, what it really meant. 

The church incident was one of many that left Aziraphale with the same, almost pleasant ache, in his chest. Whenever he caught himself entertaining the possibility of the two of them becoming something more than secret friends, he’d force himself to think of something else. Anything else. If for no other reason than that it was dangerous. If anyone, from either side, caught wind that the two of them shared even a bit of fondness for one another, it would spell trouble for both of them. 

But then suddenly it was Armageddon. 

And then, just as suddenly, it wasn’t. 

So there they were, sitting at the Ritz having just finished an extraordinarily delicious lunch, neither with a side they needed to show even a smidgen of loyalty to anymore. Aziraphale watched as Crowley took a long sip of champagne, a tiny smirk on the demon’s face, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. 

All at once, every feeling he had squashed down and convinced himself he didn’t have, bubbled to the surface. 

“Oh dear,” he said out loud. 

“Something the matter?” Crowley asked, setting down his empty champagne flute. 

Aziraphale didn’t answer. His mind was working in overdrive. Every moment the two of them had ever shared, flooding his memory. He was dizzy. Lord, he was really, very dizzy. 

“Are you alright?” 

It wasn’t the question that pulled Aziraphale back to reality, but the accompanying touch of Crowley’s hand on his arm. He was unaccustomed to having the demon’s hands on him in any way, except for the occasional handshake, and therefore couldn’t be blamed for the full body flinch that sent his own champagne flying from his hand and, consequently down the front of his vest. 

They sat in stunned silence for a long moment. It was Crowley’s laughter that broke it, though it sounded hollower than usual, and perhaps a bit forced. 

“How much have you had, angel?” Crowley joked. 

Aziraphale blinked at him, then looked down at his soiled vest. He could miracle it away. It would only take a moment. But he needed an excuse to get out of there because he was about to do something ridiculous like blurt out his feelings to Crowley, which he really didn’t want to do without first sorting them out for himself. 

“A touch too much I suppose,” Aziraphale said, plastering on a small that he hoped looked normal. “I-I should be getting on. Back to the shop. A-and I really don’t want this to stain, so I’d better--

He was on his feet and stumbling out of the restaurant before Crowley could say anything. There were too many people around for him to simply miracle himself back to the shop, so he ducked down an uninhabited alley where it was safe for him to snap his fingers and end up in his sitting room above the bookshop. 

Aziraphale’s head spun as he slipped his jacket off and laid it neatly over the back of a chair. He brushed his fingers over the wet spot on his waistcoat and it dried, leaving no evidence there had been champagne spilled in the first place. After a moment of hesitation, he took the waistcoat off as well. It was an unseasonably warm day, which wasn’t something he could have normally taken notice of, or rather it wouldn’t have had any affect on him. Now, however, he was beginning to sweat. He shook himself. It was probably nothing. 

“Well that was hardly my finest moment,” Aziraphale said to himself, heading down the hallway to his tiny kitchen. He was rather in need of a good, strong, cup of tea. Maybe that would help take some of the edge off. 

It was one thing to know that you’re in love with someone, deep down, with no intention of ever doing anything about it for fear of the repercussions. It was another thing entirely to realize that said love was no longer forbidden. With heaven and hell seemingly agreeing to leave them both alone, they were free to do as they pleased. Which, in theory, meant that if Aziraphale were to voice his feelings and Crowley were to accept they could...

Aziraphale blushed at the implication. 

He wanted. Oh how  _ badly _ he wanted. But would Crowley still want him? After all that had passed between them? Aziraphale grimaced when he remembered the things he’d said to the demon.  _ We’re not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you _ . He closed his eyes. No, that wasn’t the worst of it.  _ There is no ‘our side’, Crowley. Not anymore. It’s over _ . 

And Crowley...Crowley had stared at him for a moment, then managed a quiet “right...yep” and turned to saunter off, but not before wishing him a happy doomsday. It hurt Aziraphale to say the words, and he knew it hurt Crowley to hear them. He really did make a mess of things. Hopefully he would be given the chance to set things right. Although all but sprinting out of the Ritz probably wasn’t a good start. 

Aziraphale put the kettle on the stove, pacing the kitchen as he waited. He wasn’t in the habit of pacing, but he found he couldn’t keep still. Strange. Usually, he liked keeping still. He could spend hours, days even, sitting still so long as he had a stack of books to keep him occupied. But his corporation was restless, perhaps feeding off the nervous energy that Aziraphale was feeling. He had better control over his body than this, able to keep the more human reactions from taking over. The pacing, combined with the sweating from earlier, were both evidence to the contrary. 

Were it anyone other than Crowley causing his body to behave as such, Aziraphale would have been more put out. As it was, if anyone deserved to have someone reduced to an anxious, pacing, sweating mess because of them, it was Crowley. So deserving of love, that demon. And so very unaware of it. 

“Might wanna take the kettle off the stove.” 

Aziraphale jumped, turning to see Crowley leaning against the doorframe of his kitchen. 

“I-I...what?” The angel asked. 

Crowley arched a brow and pointed behind him to the steaming kettle which was, in fact, whistling. 

“Oh! I didn’t even--” Aziraphale bustled over to the stove and clicked it off, removing it from the heat. 

“You know you could just miracle yourself a cup of tea,” Crowley drawled. 

Aziraphale laughed, a startled sounding little thing. Yes, he could miracle himself a cup, but he liked to do it the human way. There was something pleasant about heating the water, letting the tea steep, and adding his own milk and sugar. It made him feel like he was a part of something, no matter how small it may be. He was about to tell Crowley as such, but the second he turned around and saw the demon, the words died on his tongue. 

Crowley was tense. As tense as Aziraphale had ever seen him. Even with the sunglasses on, the angel could tell that Crowley’s gaze was fixed firmly on his feet. He looked...guilty. That didn’t seem right. 

The silence stretched between them for far longer than was comfortable. 

“Well, just popped in to make sure you were okay. I’ll let you get on with your afternoon tea,” Crowley said, turning on his heel with the clear intention of making a hasty exit himself. 

Aziraphale panicked.

“Wait!” 

Crowley jumped in surprise, which Aziraphale couldn’t blame him for. He’d practically screamed the word at him in his desperation for him to stay. He wasn’t sure why. For some reason he had a horrible feeling in his gut that if he let Crowley walk out the door, it would be a long time before he’d see him again. Or at least, longer than he was willing to go. 

“I’m...I’m sorry for my abrupt departure from lunch. It was--I-I was, well, I found myself a bit...overwhelmed,” Aziraphale admitted. He picked up his cup, which was still empty, but he needed something to do with his hands, if only to keep him from doing something ridiculous like grabbing hold of the lapels of Crowley’s jacket and begging him to stay forever. Baby steps, he reminded himself, for both their sakes. 

“S’alright,” Crowley said with a shrug, sounding as though it was anything but ‘alright.’ “I apologize, by the way.” 

Aziraphale paused, his brow furrowing. 

“Apologize? For what?” he asked, bemused. 

“For... _ overwhelming _ you,” Crowly said. “I know you don’t like it when I...” he stopped, and grit his teeth. 

“When you what?” Aziraphale prompted. Whatever it was Crowley thought he’d done, Aziraphale wasn’t sure. He didn’t remember the demon doing anything particularly untoward. 

“When I...touch you.” 

The words hung between them, even more uncomfortable than the previous silence had been. Aziraphale couldn’t recall Crowley touching him, well, aside from the hand on his hand to get his attention, but that hadn’t--Aziraphale’s eyes widened in realization. Crowley felt  _ guilty _ for touching him. As if, by any stretch of the imagination, that was something he should feel guilty for. Quite the contrary. It had startled the angel, to be sure, but it was far from unwelcome. 

“Oh. Oh, Crowley, you seem to have misunderstood. I--

“It’s alright, angel. I should have known better,” Crowley said, his voice filled with so much misery it made Aziraphale’s heart  _ ache _ . “You’ve never liked it when I touch you.” 

Aziraphale shook his head, but he couldn’t fault the demon for feeling that way. He was careful to keep a comfortable distance between the two of them at all times, and whenever Crowley crossed it he always found some way to brush him off. But it wasn’t because he didn’t want--didn’t like to be touched by him. 

“It’s not that. I promise, it’s not that at all,” Aziraphale said, taking another cautious step forward. He tried to mask his hurt when Crowley, for once, took a step back. “I was startled, that’s all. I was very deep in thought, you see. I’d just come to the realization that I...” he trailed off, the words stuck in his throat even though he was dying to say them out loud. But this wasn’t how he wanted to do it. For starters, he wanted to be able to look into Crowley’s eyes, without the sunglasses in the way. He wanted to hold the demon’s hands and kiss his cheeks and--and he was getting ahead of himself. 

“I think I’ve known f-for a long time,” Aziraphale continued. “But I wasn’t ready to...and there was the matter of what Heaven and Hell might do if they found out. I couldn’t risk it,” he said logically, closing a bit more of the distance between them. 

Crowley didn’t move back this time, but his hands were balled into fists at his sides. Aziraphale reached out with a shaking hand, placing it over one of Crowley’s and brushing his thumb over the demon’s knuckles. 

“But now--

“Don’t,” Crowley said suddenly, startling the angel. 

“W-what?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Don’t. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but just don’t. You can’t--not when you know how I--because I  _ know _ that you know. You must know by now, it’s been centuries,” Crowley said quietly, pulling his hand from Aziraphale’s grip. “Don’t tease me. Not about this.”

“But I’m not tease--

Crowley snorted and shook his head. 

“You must be, because why else would you be saying any of this? I know that you don’t feel the same way, Aziraphale. And it’s fine,” Crowley said. “I just came to apologize for surprising you earlier. Won’t happen again. Now if you’ll excuse me, my plants have gone undisturbed for too long.” 

Aziraphale was left reeling as Crowley spun around and headed down the hall. It made sense, in a way, that Crowley might have trouble believing that he could be loved. Angels, after all, were beings of love. They were taught from their moment of creation to love all living things. Demons, he imagined, must have learned the opposite. But Crowley...Crowley deserved love in spades and Aziraphale wasn’t about to let him get away when they were so close to finally tumbling over the edge together. 

“Crowley! Wait!” Aziraphale shouted, hastening after the demon. 

“I’ll check in with you in a few days, angel,” Crowley called over his shoulder, already down the stairs and nearly to the front door. “I just need some time to--

But Aziraphale was done listening to whatever excuse the demon was about to throw at him. It was now or never and for once in his life, he was choosing  _ now _ . 

“Anthony J. Crowley, you get back here this instant so that I may tell you that I am completely and utterly besotted with you!”


	2. Chapter Two

Crowley stood frozen with his hand on the doorknob. Well, at least he wasn’t running away anymore, Aziraphale thought. 

He was angry. Not at the demon, at least not truly, but at whoever it was that made Crowley feel that he was something that couldn’t be loved. Because deep down, Aziraphale suspected that that was the core of the problem. He knew that Crowley had loved him for centuries, and never once did it occur to the demon that Aziraphale might love him back. 

Crowley turned around slowly to face the angel, hands deep in his pockets and his mouth slightly agape. Aziraphale had no doubt that were Crowley not wearing his sunglasses, he’d see that his eyes were wide as saucers. The absolute picture of shock and surprise. 

“Y-you--

Aziraphale held up a hand to cut him off. No, he wasn’t angry at Crowley, but he knew if he let the demon speak then he’d just keep spouting ridiculous drivel about Aziraphale teasing him and he was eager to set the record straight quickly. 

“Really, dear, this is not how I wanted to do this,” Aziraphale sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I would have liked this to be at least somewhat of a romantic moment. At the very least I would rather not have had to shout my feelings at you.”

Crowley opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again when Aziraphale shot him a look that clearly said “if you say one more word I’ll make you read the longest most boring book in the shop.” 

It was remarkable how difficult it was to truly put his feelings into words, now that he had Crowley standing in front of him, ready to listen. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure where to start. 

“I feel that I owe you an apology,” he said, words coming out unbidden. Not exactly a romantic place to start, but an important one nonetheless. “You know that angels can feel love s-so I’m sure you’re aware that over the centuries I could feel yours.” 

Crowley tensed. He looked ready to run for the hills. 

“But please, I don’t want you to think I-I was deliberately spurning your feelings. I didn’t realize myself that I returned them until this afternoon. Or perhaps I did, but I didn’t--couldn’t--act on them so I spent years, centuries, pushing down what I was feeling!” Aziraphale was fired up now, gesticulating wildly, unable to keep himself still. 

“Azira-

“I’m not finished yet!” The angel said. He took a deep breath in and out, even though he didn’t actually need to breathe. It made him feel better anyway. “I know that running out on our lunch was hardly a perfect move on my part, but it’s a bit overwhelming when you realize you’re in love with your best friend! And how could I not have known? How could I have been so foolish? I’ve gone and spent most of my life, or at least the best parts of it, with you! Of course I love you!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Aziraphale regretted them. Not because he didn’t mean them. Because this wasn’t how it was done! This wasn’t how he wanted to do it. For some reason he couldn’t stop screaming his feelings at the demon. The demon who was standing ramrod straight, bottom lip trembling. He’d pulled his hands from his pockets, but they were balled into fists at his side, as they had been earlier in Aziraphale’s kitchen. 

Aziraphale closed the distance between them slowly and this time, when he placed his hand over one of Crowley’s, the demon didn’t pull away. 

“This wasn’t how I wanted to do this,” Aziraphale said again. “You deserve sweeping declarations and sonnets, not a half crazed angel yelling at you.” 

“Y-you want to write sonnets about me?” Crowley asked, finding his voice. 

Aziraphale smiled shyly and gave his friend’s hand a squeeze. 

“Well, um, I’m not much of a writer,” he admitted sheepishly. “Perhaps a haiku, rather than a sonnet. They’re shorter.” 

Crowley’s lip twitched into something that almost resembled a smile. Almost. He still seemed unsure. Not that Aziraphale blamed him. It’s not everyday a demon received a love confession from an angel. In fact, as far as he knew, it had never happened before. 

“Would you mind taking your sunglasses off, dearest?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley flung the glasses off his face, sending them clattering to the floor. Aziraphale winced at what was definitely the sound of a lense breaking. 

“Goodness, you didn’t have to  _ throw _ them. Now they’ll be--

“I’ve got more in the Bentley,” Crowley said quickly, cutting him off. 

Aziraphale frowned.

“What?”

“In the Bentley. Whole glove compartment full of them,” Crowley explained. He was fidgeting now, nervous excitement radiating off him in waves. 

Aziraphale smiled. He reached up to brush his fingers through Crowley’s short hair, remembering how lovely it had been when he’d grown it out. Not that he didn’t like how it looked now. He was sure he’d like Crowley in any form he came in, with long hair, short hair, and any other kind of hair in between. Crowley’s breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut when Aziraphale’s hand drifted to rest on his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. 

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” the angel said quietly. 

Crowley blinked his eyes open, looking a little dazed. He brought shaking fingers up to curl around Aziraphale’s wrist, holding him in place. As if the angel had any intention of letting go. 

“S’okay. Would’ve waited longer,” Crowley admitted, looking peeved at his own admission the second the words left his mouth. Aziraphale smiled fondly at him. 

Aziraphale rested his free hand on Crowley’s back, pulling him forward. They were close enough that their noses brushed, the demon’s breath fanning across Aziraphale’s lips. He would have been startled by the dizzying effect that Crowley’s closeness seemed to have on him, were it not for the fingers that found their way into his hair, and the hand that curled around his hip. 

“I’d quite like to kiss you now. Would that be alright?” Aziraphale asked. The last thing he wanted to do was overstep and even though Crowley was all but trembling in his arms, he had to be sure he wasn’t about to mess things up in some truly monumental fashion. 

By way of answer, Crowley closed the distance between the two of them. 

The kiss was chaste; closed mouth and soft as anything. It was the best kiss Aziraphale had ever had. Though he had a feeling any and all kisses hence that he shared with the demon would be dubbed ‘the best.’

It was Crowley who broke the kiss, but only to rest his forehead against Aziraphales, holding him even closer. 

“So... _ besotted _ , huh?” he asked, teasing. Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough to know that despite the teasing lilt to the question, it was an honest one. 

Aziraphale hummed, looping his arms around Crowley’s waist. He bravely wiggled a hand into the back pocket of the demon’s too tight jeans, and grinned at the squeak it earned him. 

“Entirely.” 


	3. Chapter Three

Aziraphale was not sulking.

Angels didn’t sulk. 

He was an angel.

Ergo.

Not sulking. 

Only he was. Perhaps he was the first angel ever to do so. Then again, he didn’t know any other angels with demons for companions. Aziraphale decided that were there any other angels with demons for companions, they would surely understand the impulse to sulk. 

It’s not that Aziraphale expected things to be drastically different between the two of them once he’d confessed his feelings. After all, as several other angels and demons had pointed out, they already acted like a couple in most ways anyway. Although, to Aziraphale’s understanding, when one expressed their feelings romantically and the other party returned their affections, the other party was meant to echo back the same sentiment. And Crowley, had not. 

Aziraphale sighed and shoved a book back onto the shelf a bit harder than was necessary. He stroked the book’s spine by way of apology.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know if Crowley loved him or not. Love practically seeped out of the demon’s pores whenever he was around Aziraphale. But there was a difference between feeling it and actually hearing the words. The angel never thought he would need to hear them as badly as he did. 

And then there was the matter of touching. 

Despite the rather intimate kiss they had shared, and the cheeky ass squeeze that Aziraphale had slipped in, things had been very...above the belt for the two of them. In fact, Crowley seemed to go out of his way not to touch Aziraphale, aside from a quick peck hello and goodbye. Even that left Aziraphale’s skin buzzing for more.

Truth be told, if Crowley decided that he never wanted to have sex or do anything beyond a chaste peck on the lips, Aziraphale would be one hundred percent on board. He would be more than thrilled to spend the rest of his life in the demon’s company, with or without a physical relationship. But he knew better. He could feel the want radiating off of Crowley when they sat together drinking wine and he knew exactly why Crowley watched with such rapt attention when Aziraphale treated himself to an ice cream cone. So why was he holding the angel at arms length?

They needed to have a chat. The problem was, Aziraphale wasn’t sure how to bring it up without sounding like a jilted, desperate lover. Even if that was sort of what he was. So instead, he’d taken to making sure he was away whenever Crowley dropped by. The second the demon was anywhere near the shop, the angel bolted. It was beyond childish, but he wanted to refrain from yelling his feelings at Crowley as he had done last time, and the best way to do that was to keep his distance until he was ready. 

Unfortunately, fate didn’t seem to be on his side. 

“Trying to make that book burst into flames?”

Aziraphale jumped at the sound of a very familiar voice. Goodness, had he always been so jumpy? Or was Crowley the only one who had such an effect on him? 

“Sorry, what was that, dear?” Aziraphale asked, trying to act normal. 

Crowley shrugged from where he had draped himself across Aziraphale’s old couch, which the demon had complained about on several occasions. 

“You’re glaring at it awfully hard is all.”

Aziraphale glanced down at the book in his hands. It was a copy of Hamlet. He rolled his eyes. Of course it was. With a sigh he placed it back on the shelf and turned to fully face the demon.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asked. 

Crowley studied him for a moment with an arched brow, his mouth set in grimace. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the demon said. He was clearly going to disinterest, but there was hurt in his voice and it stung Aziraphale to know that he was most certainly the cause. 

“I-I haven’t been--

“You have,” Crowley sighed, adjusting his glasses self consciously. “Did I do something wrong?”

He sounded so miserable. Aziraphale was beginning to feel more rotten by the second. Technically, Crowley hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault that Aziraphale was a neurotic mess who, for all his grousing about Crowley not expressing his feelings, was in fact not very good at it himself.

“Please,” Crowley said softly. “Whatever I did, just tell me, so I can fix it because I--

Crowley’s voice cracked and a sound that was much too close to a sob for Aziraphale’s liking left his throat. He yanked off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the side table, quickly covering his face with his hands as his shoulders began to shake.

Aziraphale hurried to kneel in front of the demon, putting gentle hands on his knees and hushing him. In all their years together, he’d only seen Crowley cry maybe twice. The first time was when the Almighty sent the great flood. The demon had kept his face carefully passive, but Aziraphale didn’t miss the single tear that slipped down his cheek. The second time was right before they saved the world, when they were in that pub and Crowley had been drunk off his ass because he’d thought Aziraphale was dead. 

“You didn’t do anything, dearest,” Aziraphale assured him, giving his knees a squeeze. “I-It’s my problem, not yours. I’ve been...unsure how to bring it up. Bit embarrassed I suppose. So I’ve been hiding from you for fear of saying something stupid when we’re together,”Aziraphale explained, feeling ridiculous now that he said the words out loud. “Please, darling, you haven’t done anything wrong.” 

Crowley slowly moved his hands from his face, sniffling wetly. His cheeks were flushed pink, shame on his face for showing himself in such a vulnerable state.

“Out with it then. What’s on your mind?” Crowley asked, wiping impatiently at his eyes. 

Aziraphale flushed, groaning and hiding his face in Crowley’s knees. 

“Youdidn’tsayitback!” he said, the words coming out in a jumble in his haste to get them out before he lost his nerve. 

“M’sorry, angel, I speak a lot of languages but I’m pretty sure that was gibberish.” 

Aziraphale sighed.

“You didn’t...you didn’t say it back,” Aziraphale said again, slower this time. “And I know that you feel the same way. I  _ know _ , but...I-I told you I loved you and you didn’t...”

Silence hung between them and the longer it went on, the more anxious Aziraphale felt. He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Crowley’s knees harder to keep himself from running away. He was really going to have to work on his fight or flight response. 

After what seemed like ages, but was probably more like a few minutes, gentle fingers were curling under Aziraphale’s chin. The angel lifted his head, eyes going wide when Crowley’s hands moved to rest on either side of his face. He shivered when the demon’s thumb brushed against his ear. 

Crowley’s eyes were unguarded, full of so much affection that Aziraphale almost couldn’t bear to look. 

“There hasn’t been a time since I met you, that I didn’t love you, angel,” Crowley said, his voice softer than Aziraphale had ever heard it. His eyes fluttered shut when Crowley pressed a kiss to his forehead, breathing out another “ _ I love you _ ,” with his lips pressed to Aziraphale’s skin. 

Crowley left gentle kisses all over Aziraphale’s face; his cheeks, his eyelids, even the tip of his nose, and the angel was  _ trembling _ . 

“You’re touching me,” Aziraphale said, voice full of wonder as Crowley’s fingers tangled in his curls. 

The demon frowned, moving as if to pull away. 

“ _ Don’t stop _ ,” Aziraphale whined. 

Crowley blinked in surprise, which was fair. Aziraphale was just as surprised at himself. He’d been longing for Crowley’s touch and now that he had it, he seemed to be in even less control of his emotions than usual. 

“Tell me, angel,” Crowley drawled, sliding his hand down Aziraphale’s neck, thumb dipping underneath his collar. “Have you been wanting me to touch you?” 

Aziraphale nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. 

“Oh yes. Very much.” 

Crowley hummed, the hand that wasn’t at Aziraphale’s neck curling into the lapel of his jacket to pull him closer. 

“You know, if you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask. Avoiding me seems counter intuitive.”

Aziraphale blushed even as he smoothed his hands up Crowley’s thighs. 

“Forgive me, dearest. You make me feel things that I’ve never felt before a-and I don’t always know the proper protocol and I...I suppose I was scared.” 

Crowley made as if he was going to pull back again, but Aziraphale caught him by the wrists, eager to keep the demon’s hands on him. 

“Not scared of  _ you _ . Scared of myself,” Aziraphale clarified. 

Crowley smirked at that, spreading his legs wider to allow Aziraphale to slot between them, his long clever fingers tracing teasing patterns up the angel’s back. 

“Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself?” Crowley teased. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale answered honestly, grabbing Crowley by that ridiculous little scarf around his neck and yanking him in so they were nose to nose. “ _ Yes _ .” 

Crowley’s face was bright red, the blush creeping all the way down his neck. Aziraphale didn’t have much time to marvel at how lovely he looked before Crowley was closing the last bit of space between them, kissing the angel soundly on the mouth.

Oh.  _ Oh _ , this was what Aziraphale had been craving. Crowley’s mouth on his, kissing him slow and deep and oh, okay, that’s the demon’s tongue coming out to play. Aziraphale moaned when Crowley’s tongue curled around his, almost whining when the demon pulled away before letting out a truly embarrassing noise when Crowley sunk his teeth into the angel’s bottom lip. 

Something snapped in Aziraphale and before his mind could catch up with his actions, he was breaking the kiss in favor of crawling into Crowley’s lap. Crowley blinked up at him in surprise, but Aziraphale just smiled, trailing wet open mouthed kisses all down his neck. 

“ _ Angel _ ,” Crowley moaned, his hips lifting off the couch to press against Aziraphale’s and then suddenly they were grinding against each other, whatever they had started getting more and more desperate by the minute. 

Somehow, through the lust filled haze in his brain, a thought popped into Aziraphale’s head. It occurred to him that his corporation wasn’t nearly as, uh, svelte as Crowley’s and he suddenly worried that he might be crushing him. 

“I-Is this, am I too heavy?” Aziraphale asked, too turned on to be embarrassed. 

Crowley shook his head vehemently, sinking his fingers into the back of the angel’s thighs and using his newfound leverage to thrust his hips up harder. 

“Not at all, angel. I-I like it. Like how you f-feel on top of me,” Crowley groaned.

Aziraphale, despite being pleased with that new found tidbit of information, used the little self control he had left, to still both of their hips. 

“W-what’s wrong?” Crowley asked, breath still coming out harsh and fast, his eyes a little unfocused.

“Nothing’s wrong, dear,” Aziraphale assured him, pressing a lingering kiss to the demon’s mouth. “I just thought perhaps we should relocate. I do have a bed upstairs, though I hardly use it, and--

With a snap of Crowley’s fingers, they found themselves tumbling into Aziraphale’s ‘hardly used’ bed. The angel glared down at his friend.

“Would it really have been such a hardship to use the stairs?” he asked.

Crowley shrugged, not looking at all like he felt bad about the small miracle. 

“Didn’t want to wait. Speaking of  _ hard _ ship,” he said, grinning lasciviously with his tongue between his teeth as he pressed his hips against Aziraphale’s thigh. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“That was a terrible joke, even for you. I may just leave you here to sort yourself out after that,” he said, but the bulge at the front of his own trousers gave him away. 

Crowley hooked his fingers through Aziraphale’s belt loops, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

“So, what exactly do you plan to do with me, now you’ve got me in your bed?” he asked. 

Aziraphale blushed. He hadn’t quite gotten that far. 

“I’m...I’m not sure,” he admitted. 

Crowley pushed himself up into a seated position, a soft smile on his face as he took Aziraphale’s face in his hands. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We could just keep doing what we’re doing. I wouldn’t mind messing my jeans like a teenager if it was with you,” he said, and despite the vulgarity of the statement, Aziraphale found it rather sweet. 

“Have you done it? Had sex I mean?” Aziraphale asked, fiddling with Crowley’s scarf. 

Crowley hummed, nodding. 

“I have. It’s been a while though. A very long while,” the demon said, looking a bit embarrassed. “Have you?” 

Aziraphale bit his lip and nodded. 

“Yes. But it’s been a long while for me as well.”

Crowley thought for a moment. Aziraphale found the crinkle he got between his nose when he thought particularly hard about something was endearing and he couldn’t help but bend to press a kiss there. The demon chuckled, running his hands up Aziraphale’s chest. 

“How about I tell you what I want, and if you’re on board, we start with that and see where we end up?” he offered. 

Aziraphale nodded, tracing Crowley’s lips with his index finger, breath hitching when the demon sucked the finger into his mouth, nipping at it playfully before letting it go.

“Wanna undress you,” Crowley murmured, the look in his eye making Aziraphale’s pants even more uncomfortably tight than they already were. “Want you to undress me too. Then I’d like to get my hands on you,” he said, illustrating his point by brushing his knuckles teasingly over the bulge in Aziraphale’s trousers. 

“C-Crowley,” he sighed, wiggling in his friend’s lap. 

“Want you to touch me too. If you like,” Crowley added, and Aziraphale’s heart swelled at the care in his voice. 

“Oh, I would most definitely like,” Aziraphale said, too turned on to be embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. 

Crowley grinned and popped the first button of his henley open. 

“Go ahead, angel. I’m all yours.” 

Aziraphale’s mouth felt very dry just at the thought of having Crowley naked underneath him. He reached out with shaking hands and pushed the demon’s jacket from his shoulders. For a moment he considered folding it or at the very least laying it over the back of the armchair he kept in the corner, but Crowley was looking at him with eyes blown wide with lust and he found he couldn’t be bothered with proper clothing care. 

Getting the buttons of the demon’s shirt undone took longer than it should have, namely because Aziraphale kept pausing to press a kiss to each newly exposed patch of skin. It shouldn’t surprise him that Crowley wasn’t wearing an undershirt. He’d had to conjure up undergarments when he’d been in Crowley’s body to avoid giving Hell a show at his trial. 

The scarf quickly followed the shirt, and the belt after that. Aziraphale had conceded to letting the demon miracle away both of their shoes and socks since they would be a hassle to take off the human way. Which meant that the only thing that stood between him and Crowley’s, uh,  _ effort _ , were a pair of skin tight black trousers. Before Aziraphale could divest him of said trousers, Crowley caught his hands, pressing a kiss to each of his wrists. 

“I’m feeling a little underdressed, angel. May I?” He asked, tugging at the lapels of Aziraphale’s jacket. 

“Oh! Yes please,” Aziraphale said, giving his shoulders a shake to help the demon slide his jacket off. He tried not to wince when Crowley tossed it onto the floor, but the demon must have noticed because one minor miracle later and it was safely draped on the back of the armchair. He opened his mouth to say ‘thank you’ but Crowley had already moved into his bow tie, untying it easily and leaning up to suck at Aziraphale’s neck as he moved onto the buttons of his vest.

Aziraphale was so preoccupied with Crowley’s mouth on his neck, he didn’t realize he was naked from the waist up until he felt Crowley’s fingers dance across the bare skin of his stomach. A flare of old insecurities bubbled up inside Aziraphale and he found himself shrinking away from the demon’s touch. 

“Everything alright?” Crowley asked, brow furrowed in concern. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale said slowly. “I just--I hope my corporation isn’t too...”

He trailed off, unable to finish, but Crowley’s eyes lit up with understanding anyway. 

“Oh, angel,” he sighed, smoothing his hands down Aziraphale’s chest. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aziraphale squirmed at the praise. 

“But Gabriel said--

“Fuck Gabriel. He’s never talked sense a day in his life,” Crowley said grumpily, pressing his forehead to Aziraphale’s chest and winding his arms around his waist. “You’re  _ beautiful _ and I-I love you. Every piece of you.”

Affection swelled in his chest and Aziraphale found he could no longer restrain himself, shoving Crowley onto his back with a quick 'I love you too, darling' and making a grab for the button of his trousers. 

“Whoa, angel! Where’s the fire?” Crowley asked, wincing as the words came out. Neither of them had particularly pleasant associations with fire. “That was a bad choice of words, but I--

Aziraphale shook his head, making quick work of the zipper and giving the pants a good yank. Crowley yelped in surprise as he was half dragged down the bed and the both of them dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“Goodness, how do you get these on every morning?” Aziraphale asked, giving them another tug. 

“It takes a minor miracle,” Crowley admitted, wiggling his legs in an attempt to help get his trousers off. 

Finally, after much too much work because Aziraphale refused to give in and use a miracle, the pants were off and sitting in a heap on the floor with the rest of Crowley’s close. 

Aziraphale didn’t have long to admire Crowley’s naked form before the demon was helping Aziraphale out of his own trousers, followed by what he knew were a very old fashioned pair of underwear. He’d half expected the demon to make a joke about them, but Crowley’s eyes were fixed on his cock instead. 

“Can I--Angel, can I?” he asked, teasing fingers tracing up Aziraphale’s inner thigh. 

Aziraphale nodded, pressing Crowley into the bed and kissing the living daylights out of him. He shuddered when the demon’s fingers curled around his cock, unable to keep himself from rocking into Crowley’s grip. Three strokes later and the angel realized with a startling clarity that this was going to be over very quickly. 

“C-Crowley. Dearest. I-I’m-- _ oh _ \--this is going to be--

Crowley hushed him, his free hand snaking behind the angel’s neck and pulling him down to press kisses all over his face. 

“S’alright. I want you to come,” Crowley murmured, nuzzling into the angel’s neck. 

Aziraphale only just managed to keep his control from snapping. The heat in his stomach was almost unbearable and he wanted nothing more than to let himself go, but he didn’t want to do so alone. With a deep breath, Aziraphale stilled Crowley’s hand, shaking his head before Crowley could ask what was wrong. 

“I’d like us to come together,” he said simply. 

Crowley’s eyes went wide and he nodded eagerly, pushing himself up into a seating position. He took Aziraphale’s hand in his, licking a lock stripe up his palm, curling his forked tongue around each finger before bringing the angel’s hand down to close around the both of them. 

Aziraphale slowly slipped his hand up and down once. Crowley let out a high pitched keening sound and Aziraphale froze. All the years he’d been on Earth and he had never heard such a noise. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said dumbly.

Crowley blinked his eyes open lazily, mouth slightly open. 

“What?” he asked. 

Aziraphale’s free hand wound its way into the demon’s hair. He used his grip to tip Crowley’s head back, kissed his neck and pressed his lips to his ear. 

“It’s just, the  _ sounds _ you make,” he groaned, smirking when he felt Crowley hitch his hips up and let out a whine. 

Done teasing now, for both of their sakes, Aziraphale jerked them steadily together. The angel thought he was going to have trouble controlling himself, but Crowley was a mess. He couldn’t seem to find it in himself to do much but dig his nails deep into Aziraphale’s back, and rock his hips in time with every stroke, desperate sounds sliding past his lips.

Aziraphale tightened his grip and stroked faster, suddenly eager to watch Crowley fall apart. He noticed a bead of sweat sliding down Crowley’s temple and leaned forward to catch it on his tongue. 

“Angel, I-I’m-- _ ah _ ,” Crowley gasped, head thrown back and his mouth dropping open as he came hard over Aziraphale’s fist. 

The demon looked breathtaking like this, sweat slick hair sticking to his forehead, eyelashes wet, and his bottom lip trembling. Aziraphale was so fixated on memorizing Crowley’s face, that his own orgasm snuck up on him and a startled sound slipped past his lips as he tumbled over the edge. 

“Beautiful,” Crowley drawled. “S’annoying how beautiful you look like this.” 

Aziraphale huffed a laugh, easing Crowley onto his back and then laying beside him, smiling happily when the demon threw an arm and a leg over him and cuddled close. The angel was reminded, not for the first time, that Crowley’s other form was a snake, as he seemed to be trying to coil himself around Aziraphale. It was unbearably endearing. 

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you, dearest,” Aziraphale said, pushing Crowley’s sweaty fringe back and kissing his forehead. 

“M’sleepy,” Crowley said with a yawn, snuggling into Aziraphale’s neck. 

“Sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Crowley hummed, pressing a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s shoulder. Two minutes later, his breathing had evened out, and Aziraphale stared fondly down at the sleeping demon. He made a mental note to make more of an effort to not run away when his feelings overwhelmed him. 

After all, the demon loved him. Aziraphale loved him back just as fiercely. 

And if anyone deserved to be loved in return, it was Crowley. 


End file.
